A discourse on the life and character of the Rev. Nathaniel Thayer ... delivered at his interment, June 29, 1840

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REYNOLDS HISTORICAL
GENEALOGY COLLECTION

ALLEN COUNTY PUBl

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393 9183

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MR. HILL'S DISCOURSE,

DELIVERED AT THE INTERMENT OF

REV. NATHANIEL THAYER, D. D.

DISCOUKSE

ON THK

LIFE AND CHARACTER

OF THE

REV. NATHANIEL THAYER, D. D,

PASTOH OF THE FIRST

CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH AND SOCIETY

IN LANCASTER,

DELIVERED AT HIS INTERMENT

JUiri: 2 9, 184 0.

BY A L O N Z O II I L L,

Minister of the Second Gocioty in V/oicosler.

WORCESTER:

PRINTED BY SPOON ER & HOW LAND.

18 4 0.

Lancasteb, July 4, 1840.
Rev. Alonzo Hill,

Dear Sir, — In behalf of the Church and Society we would

thank you for the impressive and eloquent Discourse delivered at

the funeral of our late lamented Pastor, and in their name request

of you a copy for the press.

With much respect,

Your obedient servants,

Silas Thurston, ) r> ■ ?
Warren Davis, > ^
Nath'l Warner, S CommUtec.

DISCOURSE.

PSALM 12: 1.

HELP, LORD, FOR THE GODLY MAN CEASETH ; FOR THE
FAITHFUL FAIL FROM AMONG THE CHILDREN OF MEN.

No language can represent the transitorincss of human
life more forcibly than that which is used in Scripture.
Its emblems are found in the frailest things in nature
and the most uncertain events in human experience. It
is a vapor that floats in unsubstantial masses above us ;
the sun rises, and it vanishes. It is a shadow that passes
over the valley ; the interposing cloud goes by, and it
disappears. It is as the flower of the plain and the
grass of the field ; the foot of the unconscious traveller
tramples upon it, and it withers ; the scythe of the mow-
er aoes over it, and it is cut down. The Lord of life has
committed to his servants his treasures — the rich treas-
ures of the mind and heart — the means of usefulness and
virtue and happiness, and he may come for them in the
morning or evening, at midnight or midnoon. Help,
Lord, is the desponding cry of the Psalmist ; as if he

feared that death in his unsparing progress and indis-
criminate slaughter would cut off all the godly and cause
the faithful among the children of men to fail.

And how truly do the realities of life correspond with
the representations of Scripture. We are in the midst of
a vain show. We are daily and hourly reminded of our
frailty. We are taught by each passing object our inse-
curity. Where can we go, in what can we engage, and
not be the associates of the dead ? What means of
safety, improvement, or happiness do we possess, which
do not come from them ? Think a moment. The great
public blessings which we enjoy, the language which
we speak, the religion in which we are educated, all
come from the dead. How many of the books which
we read, how many of the maxims and opinions of the
living, how many of the discoveries in art and science,
how many of our public improvements and private con-
veniences, how many of the dwellings which shelter us
and the temples in which we worship, are the works
of the dead. How large is their sphere, how wide
is their empire, compared with that of the living. In-
stead then of being only occasionally reminded of the
dead, when their image is forced upon the attention, we
have them all around us, mingling in all the scenes of
mortal existence, providing for our comfort, filling for us
the cup and spreading for us the table of enjoyment, and
contributing to the cheerfulness of the morning and the
repose of evening.

Reflect still further. Frailty is written on the very
constitution of our frames. How tender and susceptible

are its most important organs. The sling of an insect,
or the slightest pnncture may derange and destroy them.
How thin a coveiing jnotects the seat of thought and in-
teUigence. A blow which u child might inllict, or a lull
to the ground may disorder tiie brain, dispossess reason
of its throne, and darken the intellect forever. Put yonr
hands upon your bosom. You may almost bathe them in
the fountains of life. How sligiit a barrier prevents them
from forsaking their accustomed channel and from gush-
ing out. Close yonr eyes this night in slumlier, and how
near do you approach the regions of death. You lie as in-
sensible to all passing objects, to a living, breathing world,
as if you had already entered there. Think also in how
many forms and by what various instruments the great
destroyer accomplishes his work. The very sources
of life become the means of dissolution. The air which
you breathe is charged with noxious vapors. The water
which quenches your thirst is impregnated with poison.
The food which nourishes you carries pain and disease
into the frame. In the complicated system of nature the
bane and aliment of life are found together. The means
employed to preserve existence become the means of its
destruction.

But I feel that all these considerations impress us
lightly compared with events like this which has brought
us together. Within the last few months the sentiment
of our frailty has been forced upon the mind with pecu-
liar frequency and power. Among the men whom we
have been accustomed to regard with reverence there has
been an unusual mortality. Especially has it been among

the Liberal Clergy of New England. The breaches in
our spiritual Zion have been wide and in rapid succession.
Light after light that shone long and clearly among us,
has been extinguished. It is not yet a year since we
deposited in the grave the remains of the venerable Dr.
Bancroft, for more than half a century the fearless de-
fender of religious liberty, and for many years at the
head of the clergy of this County. Then after a few
months followed the excellent Dr. Tuckerman. a man
whose deep sympathies led him to consecrate himself,
and wear away his strength in administering to the wants
of the poor, and whose fame has spread wherever the
name of philanthropist is honored and good deeds are
held in reverence. In a few days more succeeded Dr.
Kirkland, late President of Harvard University, the well
loved instructor, the accomplished scholar and learned
divine. And before the season of mourning has passed,
while the funeral dirge is yet sounding on the ear, another
champion of religion has been called to his account.
And under what peculiarly impressive circumstances !
As I contemplate them, I feel more than ever a sense of
our frailty. A voice more moving and instructive than
all our reasonings comes from that silent coffin. Who of
all this large assembly that looked upon the cheerful and
animated countenance of our venerable father and friend
but three weeks ago, dreamed that he should never see
him more ? Who contemplated the possibility that he
would never return to his home and his duties ? Who
was prepared for a scene like this ? Though warned by
the frequent monitions of Providence and by his advanced

age, I must confess when the tidings of his death reached
me, they produced a shock which I could not but feel ;
for after he had commenced his journey, he was so cheer-
ful and active, he spoke to me so confidently of his pros-
pects, plans and hopes, that no sad forebodings mingled
with our parting wishes. I had no intimations, no ap-
prehensions of his danger. But in the inscrutable wisdom
of God his hour had come. The sentence of death was
passed and could not be delayed. It overtook him far
away from his home, and he fell asleep among strangers.
He went from us in the full tide of enjoyment and hope,
and he has returned, and asks only for a place in his tomb.

Bly Hearers, while reflections like these are crowding
the mind, while we are made to feel as we do not ordi-
narily our insecurity, and before we deposit these remains
in the grave, it may be well, it may do us good, to dwell
a few brief moments on the life and character of our
venerable father now gone, who for more than forty-seven
years has been the minister of this people, and has occu-
pied a distinguished position among the clergy of New
England. Often has his voice spoken from this place, —
let the silent record which he has left in our memories,
and which is sealed as his account on high, now instruct
and admonish us.

Nathaniel Thayer may be said to have been born at
the altar and for the Church. He was a direct lineal de-
scendant of the celebrated John Cotton, the first minister
of Boston, and belonged to a family in which there has been
an uninterrupted succession of clergymen for nearly two
hundred and thirty years, among whom may be found

8

some of the brightest ornaments of the New England
Churches. He was born in Hampton, N. H., July 11,
1769 — a year remarkable for the number of distinguished
men to whom it gave birth. His father, the Rev. Ebe-
nezer Thayer, was for many years the respected minister
of that place. For a long period an officer of College,
the associate and intimate friend of the distinguished
men of the revolution, professing a creed less stern
than was usual, he was remarkable in his day for his
learning, for the dignity and suavity of his manners, and
the placidity of his temper and disposition. His mother
seems to have possessed much of the energy which be-
longed to her family. Her father, John Cotton of New-
ton, was celebrated in his time for his virtues and accom-
plishments, and especially for his various powers in the
pulpit. And we are told that they who enjoyed the
privilege of hearing both, could trace a striking resem-
blance in air, voice and manner, between the grandson
and his distinguished ancestor.

His childhood and early youth were passed under the
parental roof, where he received those deep impressions
which saved him from the levity of youthful inexperi-
ence, and which led him to form that perfect propriety of
deportment, and seriousness of manner, that marked his
later years. At this period he was uncommonly thought-
ful and sedate, and he probably could not remember the
time when the great truths of religion did not exert a
hallowing influence over his thoughts, motives and con-
duct. At a suitable age he was removed to Exeter
Academy, and was of the first class of pupils offered by

that now venerable institution for admission to our still
more venerable University. He left this j^lacc withoat a
stain upon his purity, with the unqualified a})probation of
his instructor ; and with brightening hopes and quickened
zeal entered on the larger field of collegiate study. Here
he was brought into intimate communion with some of
the master spirits of his times. Emerson and Kirkland
were his cotemporaries and class mates. His rivals in the
class room, his fellow laborers afterwards in a higher
sphere of duty, he formed with them a friendship, which
received no abatement until it was interrupted by death.
In securing the affectionate regards of his fellow students
he did not forfeit the confidence of the Government of
the College, for he was graduated with distinguished rep-
utation, filled for one year the office of Tutor, and at a
later period received the highest honors in his profession
from the same institution.

Having left College with a mind disciplined and en-
riched by diligent study — what is more, having passed
its ordeal without a touch or stain upon the purity of his
character, immediately after commencement in 17S9, he
entered on the study of Divinity with the Rev. Dr. Os-
good of Medford, at the same time as a means of support
taking charge of the grammar school in that town. He
could not have been more fortunate in the selection of an
instructor. If there was a man who stood apart from the
dry technicalities of his profession, whose discernment
and energy of mind enabled him to perceive, and who.se
fearless independence prompted him to meet the exigen-
ces of his times, it was he. Those times were fraught
2

10

with peculiar peril to the New England Churches. It
was the period of the French revolution. A deep sym-
pathy with France in her struggle for liberty pervaded
the country. French philosophy and French infidelity
were largely imported, and were spreading through the
community and sapping the foundations of religion and
good morals. Voltaire and Diderot and Tom Paine were
eagerly read, and the country seemed fast verging towards
the unprincipled licentiousness which prevailed in the
old world. And how was this deluge of corruption to bo
arrested ? The arm of the civil power could not reach
it. An appeal to the authority of the Church could not
stop it. The technical preaching and cold dogmatism of
the times could not prevail against it. It remained only
to set aside the creeds of other days, appeal to the great
principles of rational freedom, review the grounds of
Christian faith, and shew that Christianity is consistent
with reason, that it is the gift of love, and that it is con-
nected with man's highest interests in this world and
another. Besides this, among the better educated minis-
ters a more intimate acquaintance was beginning to be
formed with the more liberal and enlightened theologians
of England. Fifty years before, Whitfield complained
that the clergymen of New England were forsaking the
good old Puritan writers, and were drinking in the heresies
of Taylor and Tillotson and Clarke and Emlyn. And now
Lardner and Price and Priestly were added to the list,
and were diligently studied by those who were preparing
for the sacred profession. Accordingly, a class of divines
arose, distinguished, not so much for a fervid eloquence.

11

for appeals to the imagination and heart, or for an indis-
criminate and undiscerning inculcation of traditional
doctrines, as for addresses to the enlightened understand-
ing. They stood up for truth and freedom and the sacred
rights of the mind. They discarded in a great measure
the peculiar language of theology, and uttered tones
familiar to the ears of men. They stripped religion of
its stern and gloomy aspect, and vindicated its affectionate
character, and shewed, more fully than had been done
before, its intimate connection with the duties of common
life. They had their mission, and wisely and faithfully
was it sustained. Under such circumstances, it was easy
10 foresee to what class of Christians tho intelligent stu-
dent in theology would belong. Dr. Thayer was from
the first a Liberal Christian. The principles of toleration
were engrained in his heart. Religion lay in his mind,
not encompassed with subtleties, but in a simple and
rational form. And, addressing himself to the reason,
judicious in his thoughts, never offending the most fas-
tidious taste, possessed of a voice of rich, deep, and varied
tones, and a manner peculiarly impressive ; above all,
meeting by a combination of powers the wants of his
times, from the moment he obtained a license, he was a
decidedly popular preacher, and was received with wel-
come into the pulpits of our New England churches. In
proof of .this, it needs but be stated that only a few
months after his approbation he received a formal invita-
tion to settle in the ministry over the Church worshipping
on Church Green in Boston, afterwards committed to the
pastoral charge of his friend Mr. Kirkland. And at a

13

subsequent period overtures were made to him to occupy
the pulpit of the First Church, soon afterwards so ably
filled by his other friend Mr. Emerson.

The first scene of his ministry was Wilkesbarre, Pa.,
where he spent nearly a year in the delightful family of
the Secretary of War, the late Col. Timothy Pickering.
This period was always remembered by him with pecu-
liar gratification. It was the bright morning of his
ministerial life, when the dew was yet fresh upon the
mountains, and before a budding hope had withered. At
the end of half a century, the enchanting scenery of this
village on the banks of the Susquehanna, so famed on
the sad page of history and in song, was bright and clear
and well defined in his imagination, as if it had been seen
but yesterday.

Fair Wyoming,
Although the wild flower on thy ruin'd wall
And roofless homes, a sad remembrance bring
Of what thy gentle people did befal,
Yet thou wert once the loveliest land of all
That see the Atlantic wave their morn restore.

Sweet land — how do its melancholy story and romantic
groves rise on the memory ! Among the expected pleas-
ures of his last jom'uey was that of again visiting the
spot where his youthful labors began. He told me that
he had never been there since he left it forty-eight years
ago — that his early friends were gone — that he should find
himself among strangers — that all would be changed but
his heart towards this place of his first love. But in the
wisdom of God, the anticipated satisfaction was denied

13

him ; perhaps that he might meet in fairer regions, who
shall say how many of those friends, as the seal of liis
ministry and the crown of his rejoicing.

In the summer of 1793 he began to preach to this an-
cient Church and Society, then under tiie care of the
venerable Mr. Harrington. After the usual term of pro-
bation he received an unanimous invitation to settle as
colleague Pastor, and was ordained on the ninth of Octo-
ber. And two years after, he was left by the death of
his associate in sole charge of this ilock. The day of his
ordination was one of the brightest in the autumn. It
was the season when in Indian lore the soft breezes were
believed to come from the land of spirits, and peculiar
auspices were supposed to attend human enterprises. It
was a season of unalloyed joy and hope in the hearts of
this people. And among the transactions of the day
there was one incident, so impressive, so consonant with
the general feeling, that it remains fresh in the recollec-
tions of the aged to this hour. While the youthful
candidate was making his vows at the altar and was re-
ceiving from his brethren and fathers in the ministry the
charge to be faithful and true, the aged and infirm Pastor
was stretched upon a bed of languishing to which he
had for many weeks been confined. His strength was
wasting away and the fountains of life were drying up
within him. But his Avork was not quite done. One act
yet remained, and then he was ready to go. Accordingly,
when the rite of ordination was ov^er and his youthful
associate, invested with the sacred office, was passing by
with the procession of his parishioners and friends, the

14

old man was borne to the gate of his dweUing, his eyes
dim with years and his locks streaming in the wind, and,
there supported, he placed his trembling hand on the
head of the young Pastor and invoked on him the bles-
sing of Heaven. Almost in the words of Simeon he
gave utterance to his emotions. " I now die in peace.
I can now go and bear witness to my brother from whom
I received this people, that I leave them united, prospered
and happy." Fortunate, favored man, who in dying
could bear such a testimony as this ! Happy the minis-
ter who as he reviews the past can put his hand upon his
bosom and appeal there for the sincerity of his motives
and endeavors ; who, as the fruit of his labor, can see
united with him a large, prospered and affectionate society,
and when he is no more, shall be gently laid in his tomb,
while the associates of other days, the companions of his
youth and the friends of later years, shall sleep all around.
Fitting termination of a relation among the most inti-
mate and endearing on earth !

Hov7 far the prayer of the aged saint has been answered,
how far the wishes and hopes of his people on that day
have been fulfilled, the history of this Church and Society
and the presence of this numerous assembly bear witness.
That your late Pastor entered on the duties of his pro-
fession with an enlightened view of its sublime objects,
and with the earnest aim and endeavor and constant
study to promote the truest interests of Christianity can-
not be doubted. The methods which he adopted to
secure his object and the success which has attended his
labors can be best appreciated by those who have enjoy-

15

ed them, and by Him whose piercing eye surveys every
deed and purpose of man. So rethed is the sphere of
the Pastor's labors, and so much in the iiilellectual and
spiritual world, that his truest success and best achiev-
ments can be but partially known. Like the good man
always, apart from the observation of men he does his
principal work. His great business lies amid the more
tranquil and retired scenes of life.

There unfalifrueJ
Ilis fervent spirit labors. There he fights
And there obtains fresh triumph o'er the world,
And never witliering wreaths, compared with which
The laurels that a Caesar reaps, are weeds.

I make no attempt therefore minutely to trace the course
and results of his ministry, and analyze his character and
habits of mind. It is for those who have known him for
years and been associated with him intimately, to speak
of him as he was, and do full justice to those qualities of
mind and heart which will linger long in the memory of
us all, and which will gain for him a lasting name among
the New England clergy.

Among the traits which could not escape the attention
of any, and which imparted a peculiar coloring to his
habits of mind, affected his manners and gave unity and
consistency to all the purposes of life, this was remarka-
ble.— He was thoroughly a minister. He reverenced the
sacred profession. Its duties were his delight — its- objects,
the crown of his rejoicing. The pulpit, however humble,
in his view was a post of higher honor than a throne, and
the pastoral relation was second only in intimacy to those

16

of the fireside of home. He was zealous for the honor
and influence of the ministry, and the prosperity of the
New England Churches was dear to his heart. He cov-
eted success in the sacred profession, and his thoughts,
studies and efforts were principally devoted to this object.
From the first he occupied a field of toilsome duty, which
required for its cultivation the strength of his intellect and
the freshness of his affections. Under any circumstances
the pastoral office demands habits of unceasing activity.
Having a numerous congregation scattered over a large
extent of territory, he gave to it the full energy of his
mind and heart. He was industrious beyond most men.
He was laborious and exact in his preparations for the
pulpit. Although from the variety and extent of his
duties he was subject to frequent interruption, and was al-
most daily called from his study to a distance which oc-
cupied hours, the Sabbath always found him ready for its
services. And it may be added, that even to a late peri-
od of his ministry, when in consequence of the infir-
mities of age and the changes of his congregation, he
might with perfect propriety and perhaps equal usefulness
have availed himself of his former labors, yet such were
his notions of ministerial fidelity — such was his consci-
entious abhorrence of an old sermon, that he seldom
failed to produce a new one. And at the period of his
death he had written in a fair legible hand nearly two
thousand.

But the weekly preparations for the pulpit constituted
but a part of his labors. Living in the interior of the
State, and without a rival there for many years as a pop-

17

ular preacher, he was often called away from home.
There could be scarcely an ordination even far beyond his
own neighborhood without him. On many of these oc-
casions he was invited to preach and his discourses were
published. Of the twenty- three publications which were
issued by him from tlie press, many were of this character.
He often exhibited considerable ability in the state-
ment and developement of Christian doctrine, and there
was occasionally a strain of earnestness, delivered in his
own impressive manner, that was altogether effective.
There are many who will remember with pleasure the im-
pression produced on their minds by the following passage
from a sermon delivered at an installation in Hubbardston.
" What did the world more need than an Instructor to en-
lighten them in all the will of God ; a Model of undeviat-
ing and spotless virtue and holiness ; a Savior from the
present and distant evils of moral corruption ; a Redeem-
er from the power of the grave ; and a Guide to direct
their upward course to Heaven and to God ? Give me a
Savior who shall by his gospel impart light to my mind,
purity to my heart and tenderness to my conscience.
Give me a Savior who shall lead me by his instructions and
perfect example in obtaining a victory over my sinful pro-
pensities, appetites and passions. Give me a Savior who
shall secure me in the possession of a sure and unfailing
promise of the mercy of God, if I am penitent and obedi-
ent. Give me a Savior who shall lead me in triumph,
by faith in him, through the dark valley of the shadow of
death. Give me a Savior who by his resurrection from
the grave has set before me a proof of my own resurrec-
3

18

tion. Give me a Savior in whom I can confide when he
tells mc that in his Father's house are many mansions and
that if T am faithful, where he is I shall be also. Give
me a Savior who can teach, practice, promise all this, and
whose authority to reveal the promise is unquestionably
established ; and I need nothing more to constrain me to
acknowledge that I believe him to be all sufficient, able to
save to the uttermost all that come unto God by him."
This extract, while it embodies his views on a very im-
portant doctrine of our religion, may be regarded as a fa-
vorable specimen of his manner. If he never reached
the higher efforts of eloquence, he was always appropriate
to the time and place, always judicious in the selection
of his topics, and in this respect was sometimes eminently
successful. When Lafayette, as the nation's guest, made
his triumphal tour through the country, he was addressed
by Dr. Thayer in a manner peculiarly happy. The ad-
dress at that time made a strong impression upon the as-
sembled multitudes that were gathered at the spot ; and
as he concluded with these words, " It is especially our
prayer that on that day in which the acclamations and
applauses of dying men shall cease to reach or affect you,
you may receive from the Judge of character and the Dis-
penser of imperishable honors, as the reward of philan-
thropy and incorruptible integrity, a crown of glory
which shall never fade," the Veteran trembled with em-
otion. He mentioned at the time how deeply he was
affected ; and years afterwards in the saloons of Paris,
amidst the flattery of king and courtiers, and the more
sincere homage of a nation, he was accustomed to refer

19

with pleasure to the beautiful scenery of the banks of
the Nashua, and the lieart thrilling address of the vene-
rable minister of Lancaster.

But there were other demands upon the time and
strength of the late Pastor of this Church. He fell upon
a period of great religions agitation, and of change in the
condition of the New England Churches. The old order
of things was breaking up, and a new condition of affairs
was to be established. Uilferences between minister and
people arose, and the rights of each were to be ascertained
and adjusted. The great question of religious liberty-
was at issue, and was to be settled on a firm and imper-
ishable basis, louring his life time he sat on no less than
one hundred and fifty councils ; not seldom in connection
with his venerated friend, Dr. Bancroft. The results of
these councils were often drawn up by himself, and in-
volved an amount of labor, and did a service to the cause
of Christianity, which can be but poorly appreciated by
those who are unacquainted with these subjects, and who
do not perceive the importance of great principles in
Church polity, as well as in Christian belief.

Nor in consequence of these numerous engagements
abroad did he neglect the performance of his parochial
duties at home. Tlicre was scarcely a week in the year
in which a half day was not given to subjects connected
with the education of the young. He was attentive to
all the details of public instruction in the town. And
the Sabbath School — an institution of recent establish-
ment, so wont to be frowned upon by the aged as an
innovation upon the practices of the fathers, was cordially

20

sustained by him, and fostered with an enthusiastic de-
votion no way inferior to that of the youngest and most
ardent of his brethren. In the more appropriate offices
of his profession, he was prompt, impartial and exact.
When he was able, I do not believe that the humblest
and most obscure individual in his parish ever desired his
attendance in the chamber of sickness and sorrow in vain.
It might be in the most remote part of the town — amid
the burning heats of summer or the pelting storms of
winter, under the pressing weight of other duties, in do-
mestic bereavement, in infirmity of body and weariness of
mind — yet there he would be, in the chamber of sickness
and by the bed of death, to administer the last admoni-
tions, consolations and offices of religion. If he did not
always bring home to the conscience of the erring the
power of religious truth, he knew how to speak words of
comfort to the heart stricken and desponding. The aged,
the poor, the burthened, they whom none else would
pity or care for, found in him a prompt benefactor and
sympathizing friend. And among the many whom his
sudden death has plunged in grief, there are none who
will shed more bitter tears than the destitute, the enfee-
bled, the widowed and childless, the forlorn — who sit
apart in their solitary places, and remember that they
shall no more see his countenance or hear his voice
among them.

Nor was our venerable Father without traits of a more
domestic and personal character. His hospitality was
large and generous. It extended to all, like the aged
elms a.round his mansion. His doors were thrown widely

21

open ; and the friend and the stranger were invited to
sit at his table and repose beneath the shadow of liis roof.
To the inmates of his dweUing he was kind and consid-
erate. By many once occupying a circle around his fire-
side, now scattered over the land in places of dignity and
responsibility, his influence will be felt to the latest
period of their lives. Some of their wisest maxims and
some of their best impulses they may trace to the uncon-
scious impressions which he was enabled to leave upon
their minds. His placid countenance is associated with
their earliest and most fixed resolves — his voice going up
in the morning and evening sacrifice, with their most
hallowed religious feelings. And in the more intimate
relation of husband and father he was gentle and affec-
tionate. The playful companion rather than the severe
governor of his children — their ready confidant from their
tender years, his influence was like that of the rising sun
and falling dews, constantly vivifying and refreshing. In
a word, he was a Christian gentleman, never off'ending
against the most rigid rules of propriety abroad, sweet-
ening home by the presence and exercise of the Christian
graces, endearing his friends by his constant kindness,
attracting strangers by his undeviating politeness and
affability.

Dr. Thayer enjoyed a green old age. Although, with
a single exception, the oldest minister in the State having
the sole charge of a parish, he continued in the exercise
of his ministerial functions with undiminished ardor and
with few interruptions to the last. At length, debihtated
somewhat by the labors of the past spring, three weeks

22

ago to-day. he commenced a journey for the pleasures of
relaxation and the recovery of his health. The day be-
fore he had stood where I now stand, and administered
the ordinances of baptism and the supper to an unusual
number. The spectacle of so many children and
youth, offered and offering themselves in the holy rites of
our religion, touched his heart. It was a season of un-
mingled satisfaction ; and he frequently referred to it as
the happiest in his life. He began his journey under
favorable auspices, and every hour was enjoyed. The
almost uninterrupted clearness of the sky, the fragrance of
the air, and the richness of fields and forests through which
he passed, brought a glow of health to his cheek and
animation to his spirits. Every object attracted his at-
tention — every scene awakened his interest. He gazed
with wonder on the itnprovements around him, and spe-
culated as a Christian on that portion of the country
through which he was passing. After spending a week
of pleasure and improvement at Saratoga Springs, he
pursued his course by easy stages towards the Falls of
Niagara, and was arrested by death at Rochester, N. Y.,
on Tuesday, June 23, at two o'clock in the morning.
The day before had been spent as he would desire to
have done it had he foreseen that it would be his last.
Large portions of it had been occupied in most interest-
ing conversations on religious subjects with fellow trav-
ellers, which, if they leave no lasting impression upon
their minds, will be remembered with gratitude by the
daughter who was his companion. In the evening he re-
tired at his usual time and in his usual health; and no in-

23

timations were given of tlic veiled events of tlio coming
hour. But the messenger of dcatli had been sent and
was already on his Avay — and in the silence of the night
and in a strange city he came — and the aged pastor,
familiar with his form, perceived that his hand was upon
him, and felt his cold breath ui)on his cheek, but his
presence and power created no alarm. Without a mur-
mur or a sigh of discontent he yielded to the decisions of
an unerring Providence, and, serene and cheerful, awaited
the final issue. Ilis mind was never clearer, or his heart
warmer. His thoughts were among his family and the
people Avhom he loved — " Give them my dying love,"
said he to the daughter whose privilege it was to stand
by his bedside. '• Tell them I cheerfully submit. — I die
in the faith I have preached. — I die in peace and in the
hopes of the gospel." It was all that ho could say ; and
then in accordance with his oft repeated prayer that he
might not survive his usefulness or the possession of his
powers — that he might not die a lingering and painful
death, — he sunk to his rest as calmly and gently as an
infant into its slumbers. And they who were there that
night and witnessed that death, although but strangers the
day before, and of a faith differing from his own, took
note and said "a good man has fallen." And

Who shall weep wlien the righteous die ?

Who sliall mourn when the good depart ?
When the soul of the godly away shall fly,

Wlio shall lay the loss to heart ?

lie has gone into peace; he has laid him down
In sleep till the dawn of a brighter day,

24

And he shall awake on that holy morn
Where sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

To the afflicted Widow, Children, and Relatives of
our departed father I would present my most heartfelt
sympathy. My friends, it may seem almost unnatural,
that, at this season when the face of nature is exhibiting
such tokens of cheerfulness, and such large provisions are
made for human happiness, your hearts should be unable
to vibrate with the general joy — that this sudden darkness
should have come on all your prospects — that an affec-
tionate husband, an indulgent parent, a valued associate
should have been torn from your embrace. But it is not an
enemy that hath done this. It is the wise discipline of
a Father that loves you. Ye believe in God. Ye believe
also in Christ. Let not your hearts then be troubled.
Remember the words which he uttered while he was
with us: "In my Father's house are many mansions."
There dwell the good, relieved from the toils and bur-
thens of this mortal existence. And husband, children,
sisters, friends, I trust, are there, for I behold, and lo a
great multitude whom no man can number of all nations
and kindred and people and tongues. And, ask you
what are these which are arrayed in white robes, and
whence come they ? These are they who have come
out of much tribulation, and have washed their robes and
made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Was it not
meet that he whom you mourn should drop his earthly
covering and put on the immortal robes ? And could you
have desired for him a less painful — a more peaceful
change ? Comfort yourselves, my friends, with these

25

reflections. Let the hopes of our religion be in you and
abound.

My Brethren and Fathers in the Ministry. The pres-
ent year will be marked in the annals of our Churches.
How many of the pillars of our Zion have fallen ! How
many of our associates and friends have departed ! The
fathers, where are they ? Gone are they to render their
account. The faithful fail from among the children of
men. The voices of the aged and venerable are hushed.
The loved forms that used to rise up before us have dis-
appeared. Their last invitations and warnings have been
given. Their last prayers in earthly assemblies have
been offered. And can it be so ? When we look upon
the tranquil face of nature — upon the material world
retaining its wonted aspect — upon the uninterrupted out-
goings of the morning and the unfailing returns of the
evening, we can scarcely realize the greatness of the
change that has passed over us. But when we come to
the place where fervent devotions have been wont to go
up and lessons of grave instruction to be given ; when
questions of difficulty arise and counsels of wisdom are
needed ; when we pass the dwelling where kindness and
hospitality reigned and hear no word of welcome from
accustomed lips, then do we realize indeed that a change
has come and that they who were with us are not.
They are gone. But we, my brethren, are yet spared,
and have a work to do. Whether our ministry shall be
longer or shorter, let us not be anxious to enquire. But
while sin is in the world and temptations abound — while

souls that might attain to angelic excellence are besotted
4

26

and enslaved by low worldly habits — while men and
women with capacities for immortal and ever increasing
happiness, Esau like, are casting from them the treasure
for a present gratification or gain, we must work, — and
though faint and weary, we must still work. Onward
then, my brethren, in a holy resolve and endeavor. Re-
member, the season for spiritual toil is brief. The day of
grace is hastening to a close. The shadows of night are
coming down from the mountains. He lives longest who
accomplishes most. Watch ye, then, stand fast in the
faith, quit you like men, be strong.

My Brethren of this Church and Society. By the
event that has called us together you have sustained a
loss which you only can appreciate. The light which
has shone in this place for nearly half a century is ex-
tinguished. The voice which you have been accustomed
to hear is silent. The heart that beat in unison with
your own has ceased to throb. The countenance that
was welcome to your dwellings is fixed in death. The
guide of this people and the pastor of this flock is now
to occupy the narrow precincts of the tomb. At this
solemn hour, how many tender recollections must rush
into your minds. With how many of the most interest-
ing reminiscences of life is his image associated. On many
of you, when you were too young to be conscious of the
act yourselves, when parental devotion in the hour of
fervent gratitude and hope ofl'ered you to the service of
God and Christ, his hand sprinkled the waters of baptism
and his lips invoked a blessing. When in later years you
again approached the altar, he welcomed you to the table

27

of our Lord and broke unto you the bread of life. When
you have come to this place of sacred instruction Sab-
bath after Sabbath, he has stood hero and dispensed to
you the great lessons of truth and duty. He has been
with you in joy and sorrow, sanctioned by his prayers
your nuptial vows, soothed by his sympathies your griefs
for the loved and lost, and entered your chamber of sick-
ness and raised your sinking souls above the weakness of
the body and opened to you the prospects of life eternal.
And now, as the remembrances of these things come
thronging into your minds, can you fail to ask, — does not
the question press upon the conscience, have you redeem-
ed these pledges of your childhood, and observed these
vows of your maturer years ? Have none of his coun-
sels of wisdom been slighted ? Have all the invitations
of religion which proceeded from his lips been accepted ?
Have the lofty principles and spirit of the gospel been
formed within you ? Is the love of God and Christ and
goodneiis enkindled in your hearts, and does it shed over
your wholv? lives and conduct its gentle, purifying and
ennobling influence ? Arc you emancipated from earth-
born corrupting habits, pressing onward in the career of
Christian virtue, rejoicing in Christian hope ? My breth-
ren, these are questions which you must ask in your
bereavement. They are forced upon the mind, and can-
not be evaded. Have you been true to your interests,
faithful to your opportunities ? Not here in this crowded
assembly, — not when the feelings are agitated with emo-
tion,— not to man, frail and sinful like yourselves, be the
answer. But take some still quiet hour, when the pas-

28

sions are hushed and the great responsibilities of life are
brought clearly to view, and then and there in the
solemnity of the soul and in the presence of God, let the
reply be made. Though dead, may your lamented pastor
yet speak to you. Remember, your welfare was dear to
his heart. If strength had been given him, his last
prayer would have been, that, as he received you, you
may remain an united, prospered and happy people.
Have you forgotten his earnest and almost prophetic lan-
guage while he was with you ? " You will not doubt
my sincerity when I express a firm belief that the peace
of this town and the hope that no root of bitterness will
spring up to interrupt it, are to all of us subjects of de-
vout thanksgiving. I add, if on that day when death
shall dissolve the tie that connects us as minister and
people, I can leave you as I now behold you, an united,
growing, prosperous and happy people ; if I may be sup-
ported by the hope that you will have a minister who
will be a peace-maker, who will be more valiant for the
truth and able to defend it, more faithful and devoted to
you and your children than your present minister has
been, one of the first desires of his soul in relation to
your state as a Christian society will be accomplished."
By your respect then for his memory — by your regard for
the well being of yourselves and your children, let no
dissensions arise among you. Now the shepherd is gone,
let the flock the more earnestly cleave together. Let
your counsels be united and your hearts be as the heart
of one ; and the prayers of all good men will be offered
in your behalf, and the smiles of Heaven will be upon

29

you. Happy will you be if you find a successor who
will be a peace-maker ; who will be more valiant for the
truth and able to defend it — more faithful and devoted to
you and your children than your lamented pastor.

To the Children and Youth of the Sabbath School
here assembled I have one word to add, and then I have
done. My Young Friends, you have come here perhaps
to look on these weeds of wo, to occupy a place in this
funeral pageant, and to listeu to what I might say of
your honored and venerated minister. Before we part let
me suggest a thought that will be useful to yourselves.
You may have read, for we are told by the Jewish his-
torian, that when Jerusalem v/as besieged a solitary voice
was heard at the dead of night echoing through the still
and vacant streets of the devoted city, and saying, "Arise,
depart, for this is not your rest." And they who heard
that voice deemed the city no longer their home. They
went to their labors with their pilgrim's staff in their
hands and shoes on their feet for the journey ; and
whether men, women or children, all were ready when
another sigu should warn them to go. And my friends,
are there not many voices coming to your ears, not mere-
ly in solitude, but in the busiest scenes of life ; not
merely at midnight, but morning, noon and every hour
of the day, — from the changing fields and forests, from the
word and the providence of God, from the chamber of
sickness and the fresh made graves of your friends, saying
to you also, " Arise, depart, for this is not your rest."
You are bound for another country. God is your Father
and your home is in the skies — prepare yourselves to

30

receive the smile of his welcome and a place in some of
his mansions. Lean not on earth — Defer not a present
duty — Begin now your upward course. For, what is
your life ? To-day you may rejoice in your health and
strength, and to-morrow — where may you be to-morrow ?
Its sun you may never see. You may retire this night
with your plans and full blown hopes, as did your ven-
erable father, and amid silence and darkness be hurried
to your account. Be thoughtful then, be affectionate, be
dutiful. Remember now your Creator, while the evil
days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when you shall
say, I have no pleasure in them. Watch, for you know
not the day nor the hour. What I say unto you I say
unto all — watch.

APPENDIX.

HIS ANCESTRY. P. 7.

This statement is not merely conjectural. The genealogical
table is complete. Every link is supplied. Dr. Thayer's ma-
ternal grandfather, as has been said, was the Rev. John Cotton of
Newton. He was born in 1694, and ordained Nov. 3, 1714, at
the early age of twenty. He was universally called " the Great
Gun of the Gospel," and seems to have inspired a singular de-
gree of reverence in the minds of his cotemporaries. We are
told, " the Church and religious society in this place enjoyed the
happy resettlement of the Gospel Ministry among them by the
ordination of the Rev. John Cotton, M. A., descendant of the
celebrated John Cotton, first minister of Boston." " So high
was the respect cherished for the virtues and accomplishments
of this youth of twenty, that the town in general went in pro-
cession, met and gave him a joyful welcome upon his entrance
into it as a candidate." " His labors," we are told, " through
life were faithful, fervent, acceptable, and considerably success-
ful. He died of a fever, after a short illness, in which he gave
his dying counsels to his parishioners present, and expressed his
animating hopes, May 17, 1757."=*^

His father was the Rev. Rowland Cotton of Sandwich. He
was ordained Nov. 8, 1694, and died March 18, 1722. He was
a faithful and successful minister, and, as was the custom of
clergymen living in the neighborhood of Indian settlements, he

• 1 llisl. Coll. V.5.

32

learned the Indian language, and gave a portion of his attention
to their instruction. In an account of " a visitation to the In-
dian plantations within the province of Massachusetts Bay," the
following testimony is given to his fidelity. " At Mashpah, be-
longing to Sandwich, we found another assembly of Indians,
among whom the Rev. Rowland Cotton frequently dispenses the
word, unto whose good progress in the Indian language we can-
not but subjoin our attestation, having heard him dispense the
word to them." His brother Josiah Cotton, magistrate of Ply-
mouth, was eminently skilled in the Indian language, of which
he published a vocabulary. A manuscript sermon of his, half
Indian and half English, is in the library of the Antiquarian
Society.*

Their father was John Cotton of Plymouth, who was ordained
pastor of the Church, June 30, 1669. In consequence of a
difference of opinion on some subjects of Ecclesiastical polity,
dissatisfaction arose, which led to his dismission Oct. 5, 1697,
" to the great grief of a number in church and town who earn-
estly desired his continuance." He was afterwards invited
to re-settle in Charleston, S. C, where he died Sept. 18, 1699.
He was accounted " a man of strong parts and good ability to
preach the word of God." He was laborious, active, faithful,
and eminently successful. He was well acquainted with the
Indian language, and indefatigable in his efforts to convert the
natives to Christianity. He published the second edition of El-
liot's Indian Bible with a Grammar.*

His father was the famous John Cotton, minister of the first
church in Boston.

INVITATION TO SETTLE IN BOSTON. P. 11.

The text is not strictly accurate ; but by the kindness of my
friend, the present Pastor of the New South Church, I am able
to correct it. He never received a formal invitation to settle.
But at a meeting of the Society held March 3, 1793, on a ques-

* Hist. Coll. Ell. IJiosr. Diet. Farmer's Reg,

33

tion to determine the number desirous of giving him a call, a
majority was found in his favor — but in consequence of a sub-
sequent vote no invitation was given him. The record is as
follows :

On motion, it was voted, That the sense of the Society be
taken by yeas and nays to determine the number desirous of
giving Mr. Thayer a call to settle. On counting the votes, it
appeared that the whole number were fifty-one, of which thirty-
three were for giving Mr. Thayer a call and eighteen in the
negative.

On motion whether it be expedient (all circumstances consid-
ered) to give Mr. Thayer a call to settle, it was unanimously
voted not expedient.

In the First Church no votes were taken. But a movement
was made and a committee, composed of leading members of the
society, sought an interview to learn if invited, whether he would
accept ; but to his honor as a faithful and conscientious minister,
he rejected the overtures, preferring rather than sever the ties
which bound him to his people in Lancaster and wound their
aflfections, to forego the honor and advantage of having a city
congregation.

HIS PREDECESSORS. P. 13.

The following notices of the ministry in Lancaster were fur-
nished by a friend, taken principally from printed discourses
and from the records of the town.

Lancaster was incorporated in 1653, there being then nine
families in the place. " From the year 1654, Mr. Rowlandson
preached among them until the 14th of April 1658; at which
time they invited him to settle in the work of the ministry
among them ; and he accepted their invitation, and probably was
ordained the same year." He continued their minister till
1676, — when King Philip's war having commenced, Lancaster —
then containing above fifty families — was destroyed by the In-
dians, many of the inhabitants killed, and the rest dispersed.
During the dispersion of the Lancaster people, Mr. Rowlandson
5

34

was invited to preach at Weathersfield in Connecticut, and died
before the resettlement of the town — which was about four years
from the time of its destruction. — After the resettlement of the
place, the pulpit was supplied by several persons, and no minis-
ter settled, till 1690 — when Mr. John Whiting, son of the vener-
able Samuel Whiting of Billerica, was ordained. In 1697, dur-
ing a war in which N. England was involved with the Canadians,
French, and Indians, Mr. Whiting being on some occasion at a dis-
tance from his garrison, was surprised and killed by the enemy.
They indeed offered him quarter ; but he chose to fight to the
last, rather than resign himself to those whose tender mercies
were cruelty. At the same time twenty others were killed ;
two wounded ; and six carried into captivity.

In 1701, Andrew Gardner was settled. "On the 26th Oct.
1704 (says Mr. Harrington in his century sermon, from which
the above facts are obtained) there having been a party of the
enemy discovered at Still-River, the soldiers and inhabitants be-
longing to the Rev. Mr. Gardner's Garrison, with divers others,
went in quest of them ; who returning in the evening fatigued
with the service of the day, Mr. Gardner in compassion took the
watch that night upon himself; and coming out of the box late
at night, was heard by one between sleeping and waking in the
house, who supposing him an enemy, seized the first gun which
came to hand, and shot him through the body in the Parade.
But the fatal mistake immediately appeared ; and he being car-
ried into the house, forgave the person that shot him ; and in an
hour or two expired, to the great grief not only of his consort,
but of his people, who had an exceeding value for him." John
Hancock, of Lexington, in his sermon at the installation of Mr.
Harrington, alludes to him as " a hopeful and promising young
gentleman."

John Prentice was ordained 29th March, 1708 ; and " after a
life of much service, faithfulness, and love, on the 6th of Jany
1748, deceased, aged 66, greatly lamented." Mr. Hancock, in
the sermon just quoted from, says (after enumerating the calam-
ities that had befallen the people — and especially the persons
and families of the first three ministers of Lancaster) — " Thus
God has broken in upon you as the breaking forth of waters ;

35

you remember the aliliction and the misery, the wormwood and
the gall. But since these days have rolled over you, God has
shown that he had mercy in store for you. O how have you
been greatly smiled upon in the life and labors of the Rev. Mr.
John Prentice, who having obtained help from God ministered
unto you for the space of 40 years. God made him a blessing
to you ; he was a burning and shining light, and you rejoiced
in that light for a long season. As God gave him the tongue
of the learned, so he knew how to speak a word to him that
was weary; the God of the spirits of all flesh fitted him for his
work, and taught him how he ought to behave himself in the
house of God. They that knew him, esteemed him for his piety,
his probity, his peaceableness, and gentleness, and for his com-
mendable steadiness in these uncertain times. And ye are wit-
nesses of God also, how holily, how justly, how unblameably he
behaved himself among you, serving the Lord in all humility of
mind. He was a practical, scriptural, profitable preacher ; have
you profited under it ? God knows, and your consciences they
know. He was of a firm, unbroken constitution, till about a
year before his death, and was temperate in all things, and with
the help of that Prudence* God gave him, he managed them with
discretion. And now behold I know, that ye all among whom
he has been so long preaching the kingdom of God, shall see his
face no more. * =* * And may God make you, his successor, a
greater blessing still. And may a double portion of his excel-
lent spirit rest upon you." There is extant in print an Elec-
tion sermon of Mr. Prentice's, delivered in Boston May 28,

173.5. i3&7596

Timothy Harrington was installed as his successor Nov. 16,
1748. He died Dec. 18, 1795, aged 80 ; and in the 48th year
of his ministry at Lancaster.

In regard to both his immediate predecessors, Dr. Thayer has
the following passage in a sermon of his delivered Dec. 29, 1816,
on leaving the old Church, in which they and himself had
ministered. " Innumerable are the evils and dangers, which
flow from Churches being without the regular dispensation of
the word and ordinances. In view of these evils and dangers,

* A poor pun upon ilie name of his wife.

36

we notice the extraordinary goodness of Divine Providence in
the longevity and usefulness of my two immediate predecessors
who ministered in this house. It is indeed a memorable fact in
our history, that in one hundred and eight years past there have
been only ten months, the time which elapsed between the death
of Rev. Mr. Prentice and the Installation of Rev, Mr; Harring-
ton, in which this Church has been without a settled minister.
It is no less worthy of being mentioned with gratitude, that our
records are not defaced with any instance of a controversy be-
tween this Church and either of its pastors. I have ever con-
templated these two holy men as remarkably displaying a mod-
el of the ministerial character, at the time in which they respect-
ively lived. In the Rev. Mr. Prentice were united the com-
manding dignity, the severity of manners, the pointedness in
his public preaching, which were thought by the generation he
served to be indispensable characteristics of a Christian minister.
' The young men saw him and hid themselves ; and the aged
arose and stood up.' The Rev. Mr. Harrington exhibited the
urbanity, the condescension, the cheerfulness, the candor for
youthful errors and frailties, which are congenial with the spirit
of more modern times, and a nearer imitation of the temper
of his Great Master. While classical learning shall be viewed
an honorable attainment ; while charity and the general practice
of the ministerial and christian virtues shall enhance personal
worth, or be esteemed an ornament to society and to the church,
the name of Harrington will be in precious remembrance."

Dr. Thayer in the passage just quoted remarks that in 108 years
past there have been only ten months, in which his Church has
been without a settled minister. That period is now extended,
(making allowance for the time he was colleague with Mr. Har-
rington— which was upwards of two years) to 131 years. This
remarkable fact of so long and constant a settled ministry, togeth-
er with the extended duration of each ministry, and above all the
characters of the ministers themselves, no doubt contributed
greatly to the peace and prosperity of the Parish, and to the
prospect of its continued harmony.

37
HIS MINISTRY. P. 13.

Of the ministers of tlic sixteen churches of which the ordain-
ing council was composed, two only survive, and not one
in connection with a religious society. Of the large parish
over which he was ordained but few individuals now remain.
One after another has gone before him, and the congregation of
the dead is scarcely less numerous than that of the living.
During his ministry he baptised 1017 individuals — admitted to
his church 3SS — married 1038 — and buried 1130.

LIST OF PUBLICATIONS. P. 17.

Of his published discourses are the following : — Sermon
at the funeral of his Colleague, Rev. Timothy Harrington,
Dec. 23, 1795. Sermon on Annual Fast, April 2, 1795.
Masonic Discourse, June 24, 1797. Artillery Election Sermon,
June 4, 1798. Ordination Sermon of Rev. Elihu Whitcomb
at Pepperell-borough, July 3, 1799. Installation Sermon of
Rev. William Emerson at First Church, Boston, Oct. 16, 1799.
Sermon at the Ordination of Rev. John Sabin at Fitzwilliam,
N. H., March 6, 1805. Sermon at the Ordination of Rev.
Samuel Willard at Deerfield, Sept. 23, 1807. Sermon on the
National Fast, Aug. 20, 1812. Sermon at the Interment of
Rev. Francis Gardner at Leominster, June 6, 1814. Sermon
on leaving the Old Church at Lancaster, Dec. 29, 1816. Ser-
mon on entering the New Church at Lancaster, Jan. 1, 1817.
Sermon at the Funeral of Henry Bromfield, Esq., of Harvard,
Feb. 16, 1820. Election Sermon, May 28, 1823. Sermon at
the Installation of Rev. Winthrop Bailey of Greenfield, Oct. 12,
1825. Sermon on Revivals of Religion in the Liberal Preacher,
August, 1827. Sermon at the Dedication of the New Church
in Stow, Oct. 1, 1827. Sermon at the Ordination of Rev. Wm.
H. White at Littleton, Jan. 2, 1828. Discourse at Townsend,
Feb. 10, 1828. Discourse at the Ordination of Rev. A. D.
Jones, at Hubbardston, Nov. 13, 1828. Thanksgiving Discourse
at Lancaster, Nov. 27, 1828. Discourse at the Ordination of

38

his son, Rev. Christopher T. Thayer, at Beverly, Jan. 27, 1830.
Address at Berry-street Conference — on the modes of exerting
religious influence at the present day. May 25, 1831.

ADDRESS TO LAFAYETTE. P. IS.

Genekal Lafayktte — In hehalf of the inhabitants of Lan-
caster, I offer you their cordial congratulations on your arrival
in a country whose wrongs you felt and resented ; whose liber-
ties you valiantly defended ; and whose interests and prospects
have been dear to your soul.

We all unite with the few surviving veterans which were
with, loved and respected you on the high places of the field, in
giving you a welcome to this village, once the chosen residence
of savages and the scene of their boasted triumph ; and rejoice
that you visit it under the improvements of civilized life, in
prosperity and peace.

It gladdens us that we and our children may behold'the man,
whom we have believed and whom we have taught our children
to believe, was second only to his and our friend, the immortal
Washington. We participate in your joy, on beholding our
institutions in vigor, our population extended, so that since you
left us from a little one we have become millions, and from a
small band a strong nation ; that you see our glory rising, our
Republic placed on an immovable basis, all of which are in part,
under Providence, to be ascribed to your sacrifices, dangers,
and toils.

We wish you health and prosperity. We assure you that
wherever you shall go, you will be greeted by our fellow coun-
trymen as one of the chief deliverers of America, and the
friend of rational liberty and of man. It is especially our prayer,
that in that day in which the acclamations and applauses of
dying men shall cease to reach or affect you, you may receive
from the Judge of character and Dispenser of unperishable
honors, as the reward of philanthropy and incorruptible integrity,
a crown of glory which shall never fade.

39

HIS FAMILY. P. 21.

He was married to Sarah Toppan, daughter of the Hon.
Christopher Toppan, of Iiis native village, Hampton — one of his
father's principal parishioners, Oct. 22, 1795. She still survives
to deplore his loss. Delicacy forbids my speaking of an union
cemented by the mutual kind offices of nearly half a century,
or of the aid which he derived in all the trying circumstances
of his ministry from her sympathy and co-operation. They had
eight children, of whom five only remain.

HIS DEATH. P. 22.

It is not certainly known of what disease he died. It was
probably a congestion of the lungs. It is a little remarkable
that the manner of his death should so nearly resemble that of
his father, fifty-two years before, who was, also, cut off in the
night in his usual vigor, after an evening cheerfully spent in
company with his friends. Dr. Thayer died among strangers,
but they can be regarded so no longer. The Christian courtesy
and kindness of the clergy and people of Rochester, the prompt
sympathy of the Rev. Mr. Whitehouse, of the Episcopal Church,
in particular, who offered to throw open his house for a public
funeral service, will ever be gratefully remembered by the be-
reaved family. The remains, attended by the daughter, who
received every attention by the way which delicacy could
prompt, were conveyed to Lancaster, and by another singular
coincidence reposed under the same elms where his aged
colleague had so many years before invoked on him a blessing,
while prayers were offered in presence of the afflicted family
and friends hastily gathered together. On Monday, June 29th,
at 2 o'clock, P. M., they were carried to the Church where he
had so long officiated. It was hung in black and filled in every
part with the people of the town and its vicinity. In connection
with the sermon, passages of Scripture were read by Mr. Os-
good, late of Sterling, prayers were offered by Mr. Allen of
Bolton and Mr. Lincoln of Filchburg, and appropriate pieces of

40

music were sung. When the services were over, the lamented
minister was borne from the portals of the house of God, to en-
ter them no more. And as I saw the aged people following the
bier, calling to mind the faithful services of half a century, and
those of maturer years sorrowing" as for a personal friend, and
little children weeping that they should look upon the kind pas-
tor no more — and then beheld the body laid in the silent tomb
amid the associates of other days, it seemed to me a sublime
and touching spectacle — a fitting termination of a long and
devoted ministry.

Servant of God, well done !
Rest from thy loved employ ;
The battle foiight, the victory won,
Enter thy Master's joy.

The voice of midnight came,
He started up to hear ;
A mortal arrow pierced his frame —
He fell, but felt no fear.

Tranquil amidst alarms,
It found him in the field,
A veteran slumbering on his arms.
Beneath his red-cross shield.

The pains of death are past ;
Labor and sorrow cease ;
And, life's long warfare closed at last,
His soul is found in peace.

Soldier of Christ, well done !
Praise be thy new employ ;
And while eternal ages run,
Rest in thy Savior's joy.

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